


Functional Insanity

by KendraLynora



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/F, Ficlet, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 07:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11286726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KendraLynora/pseuds/KendraLynora
Summary: A short Dianetti ficlet





	Functional Insanity

Rosa Diaz, a tall, thin, Latina detective with long dark curly hair, slid her arm through the sleeve of her dark maroon leather jacket, just before she checked her phone that had recently binged. The nine-nine (precinct) group chat read:

_ Shaw’s Bar 1900 hours for Jake’s-time-to-gloat-because-he-was-totally-right-while-Capt.Holt-buys-him-drinks-for-being-the-awesomest-and-smartest-detective-ever celebrations! _

She turned off her phone screen then shoved the device into her jacket pocket; already knowing the time and reason for their bar night. Jake and Charles, her friends and fellow detectives, had closed one of their captain’s old coldfiles. It was customary for any major case solve to end the day with celebratory drinks.

Rosa had made a quick stop at her condo, which was situated nearby the station, to shower and change before the festivities. Hitchcock, one of the two most inept detectives in the station, had spilled a whole jar of pickle juice on her lap that afternoon. In response, she had sprained his finger and threatened to set his desk on fire if anything like that were to ever happened again.

Just as the detective was about to reach for the doorknob to leave, she heard the sound of a key slide into her lock; quickly unfastening her deadbolt.

No one had a key to her place. No one had even ever approached Rosa’s door. She had faked her own murder, then played cop to the crime scene in her condo, in order to make her neighbours all think that her suit was empty and filled with bad omens, so they would always stay away from her place. She often climbed into her suite though the fire escape as a means to maintain the ruse.

The detective grabbed her nearby machete and whipped open the door.

“Daaamn, girl,” Gina Linetti, standing in the hallway with a blade to her neck, said with an impressed look on her face.

“Gina,” Rosa drew back her weapon. “What the hell are you doing here?” She questioned her friend, who was also the administrator in the ninety-ninth precinct.

“I just drank a Big-Gulp of milk and Redbull ‘cause the internet told me that I shouldn’. So I had to come here to use your bathroom,” The auburn-haired administrator, of Italian descent, squeezed past the taller woman and into her home. “Ever since you told Charles about Babylon he’s been stinking it up with his own personal concoctions of fermented goat cheeses. Now every time I have to pee at work, I gotta come here.” Babylon was their hidden luxurious bathroom at the station that they shared in secrecy. 

“You what? Also, you  _ can _ use the public restroom there.”

“Once you've tried sushi from  _ The Pizzeria _ ’s lunch buffet, you can't simply go back to eating gas station California rolls. Life doesn't evolve backwards.”

Seeing validity in Gina’s reasoning, minus her questionable eating habits, Rosa pressed on to her next curiousity, “How do you even know where I live?” She asked in a level tone.

“Oh, Rosa, one day one of my slightly-over-passionate social-media fans is going to not be able to handle all of my perfection anymore. And when that time comes, they’ll inevitably hunt me down and try to like cut my adorable face off or something, and probably as well, my exquisite business class booty.” She pointed at the other woman for emphases. “So I’m gonna need a safe place with a scary Amazonian warrior to protect these--” she circled her face with one hand and her butt with the other “--priceless assets.”

“So, what, you stalked me home from work one day, then started to frequent my bathroom without my knowledge, and now expect me to protect you when some freak finally comes for you?

Gina, now nearly at Rosa’s washroom door, gave her an innocent smile over her shoulder, “ah-huh.”

“Seems legit to me,” The detective shrugged nonchalantly. “And the key?”

“I told your super that I was a psychic who saw a ghost lurking in your window when I was dog walking Paris Hilton’s teacup chihuahua. I then convinced him to give me a key to cleanse your suite. He said it was illegal to do that because it’s still private property but he caved when I let him pet Paris’s dog.”

“You don’t know Paris Hilton or her dog.”

“Yeah,” Gina laughed, “honestly, didn’t think it totally through. So I ended up putting Jake’s desk rat in a fancy pink purse. It did the trick”

“Eww.” Rosa scrunched her face in disgust, more so at the reminder of Detective Peralta’s garbage heap of a work-space, than of the actual rat itself.

“Anyway, girl’s gunna burst.” Gina said before shutting herself into the bathroom.

Once the door was closed, Rosa smiled. Always impressed by Gina’s knowledge and resourcefulness that seemed limitless. It was odd though, the first and last time the gang from work had discovered where she lived, she had moved from her old apartment into this new place. Never wanting people to know much, or anything at all, about her personal life. However, the detective was perfectly okay with Gina having intel on her residence. In some strange way, it seemed to comfort her in knowing that the administrator had claimed a part of Rosa’s place as her own.

Rosa then dropped down on her sofa, waiting for the other woman to finish so they could leave together for the bar.

Shortly, Gina emerged from the washroom, but before Rosa had the opportunity to get up, the administrator plunked down next to her. Gina then grabbed the stereo remote from off the coffee table, and turned on  _ Stay  _ by Rihanna.

“You loaded my player with your music?”

“Not  _ my music. _ RiRi belongs to us all.”

The detective smirked, “Why do I find the crazy ones with a blatant disregard for my personal boundaries, to be the most intriguing?”

“Because, my beautiful exquisite Rosa, you --like me-- thrive on chaos.”

“Huh,” she grunted in agreement. “Only thing is that this dysfunctional attraction causes nothing but broken relationships,” Rosa nearly muttered with downcast eyes.

“Noooo,” Gina whined in annoyance, “Is this about Pimento?” She referenced Rosa’s ex-boyfriend, whom she had recently broken up with. The former detective at their precinct, Adrian Pimento, had finally pushed Rosa into ending their relationship after he had proven that his violently erratic self-destructive behaviour, caused by P.T.S.D., had become unmanageable for her, both, mentally and physically.

“Pimento is just the most recent of many. I see somebody who’s one Michael Jordan short of a Looney Tune’s basketball team in their head, I gotta jump their bones. It doesn't exactly set a solid framework for a lasting relationship.” Her own words sounded calmer to her ears, than they did in her heart. Her relationship with Pimento was probably the longest she’d ever had. The months she’d been with him were intense, yet she knew that they were not healthy.

“So, what, now you’re going to start jumping boring people’s bones instead? Take it from a person who’s been with Charles Boyle,” the dull, clumsy, half way-neurotic detective that they both worked with. “You would be better off extinguishing a campfire with your face, than go bland. I mean, didn’t you break up with Marcus for just that same reason?”

“Yeah. I guess,” She briefly recalled back to another ex-boyfriend who was far too stable and emotionally affectionate for her own liking, “I guess I just want somebody who is a balance between the two of them; Insane but still somewhat functional and attentive.”

“You wanna date one of the mom’s from Toddlers and Tiaras?”

“Nah, I’m thinking more like the instructor from Dance Mom’s.” Rosa said dryly with a slight smirk. “Anyway, we should go to Shaw’s now. I want to stop this conversation because it’s giving me weird sensations inside my body that remind me of that one time that I experienced feelings.”

“Ew, no. We’re not going to Jake’s lame thing tonight.”

“We’re not?”

“No, we’re going to Swan Lake, bitch!” Gina sang as she pulled ballet tickets from her pocket before waving them rhythmically over her head.

“What?” asked Rosa sharply with surprise.

“Yeah, it starts at eight so we still have time to chill and brainstorm names for my future clothing-line,” she casually threw the tickets on the coffee table. “I was thinking something luxurious-street sounding like,  _ Gina-Fur from the Frock.  _ Or like I could do sleepwear and call it,  _ Gina on the Streets, Linetti in the Sheets _ .”

Rosa stared at her, eyes nearly brimming with tears, completely ignoring her clothing line suggestions; angry at the fact that she was suddenly overwhelmed with the additional emotions that she now was forced to choke down. “Swan Lake is my absolute favourite show. Nobody knows this. What the hell, Gina?” She growled through a locked jaw.

“Girl, everybody knows you were a ballerina, Terry blabs when he’s drunk.” She referenced the precinct's sergeant who had discovered Rosa’s secret past of being a trained dancer. “Also, you once corrected Jake that a group of swans is called a ‘bevy’ and not a ‘swindle’, but you did it without calling him an idiot, clearly indicating that you know things about swans while having sentimental feelings towards them, which obviously means that you have a fondness for Swan Lake.”

“Oh my god, why are you not a criminal analyst?” She asked in annoyance. An annoyance towards the warm sensitive feeling that the other woman was provoking within her. The way in which Gina cared enough to study her, and then act in a generous manner towards her with the information that she had gleaned, was more than the detective could handle.

“Meh, it’s below my skill level, I’d much rather spend my time talking through the walkie talkie that I keep moving around in the morgue,” Gina laughed, “Man the tech down there is  **_on edge_ ** !” She then continued on with more sincerity, “No, but really. Analysing and judging people who have committed crimes, I’m not about taking Tim Gunn’s job away.”

“Lawful crimes, not fashion crimes.”

“Yes, don’t want to equate the two, because one is clearly more serious than the other.”

Rosa fixed her gaze on the other woman. She knew Gina’s abnormal mind was thinking about the inexcusable crimes made by people who would wear multiple animal prints, because “ligers aren’t real so don’t dress like one” or “the colour orange is only appropriate in 12% of any given situation” even though nobody actually knew what she meant by that. The detective thought on Gina’s odd priorities, philosophies, and habits. They were exactly what she was talking about earlier. Exactly what she had always desired.

“You got Swan Lake tickets,” Rosa simply stated as if she needed an additional confirmation of the act.

Gina’s mood turned serious, meeting Rosa’s soft eyes. “Of course. Gotta keep my fave happy,” she gently nudged Rosa’s chin with her fist as she bore a heart-melting smile.

Rosa smirked, “Your fave? You’re just saying that because I scare you.”

“Bitch, which is the greatest flattery you can receive!” Gina wagged her fists to emphasise her point. 

“True,” This time Rosa had to physically bite back a smile, which was a rarity in any other circumstance, yet, in Gina’s company; was a rather frequent event.

The detective's demeanor then quickly changed as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She then blurted out quickly; almost as a bark, “You're my favourite too. I like you,” she downcast her eyes for a moment before flickering them back up to add, “like a lot.”

“Aww,” Gina giggled with her hand to her heart. “I know acknowledging any sort of emotion, other than anger, is hard for you, so thank you.”

“No, you don’t understand, I like you like--”

Gina quickly shifted onto Rosa’s lap, straddling her while stopping Rosa mid-sentence. “Oh, I understand,” The smaller woman’s stare bore into the Latina’s eyes.

“Gina, if you don’t get off of me right now, you can not hold me accountable for what I might do to you,” Rosa locked her jaw with intensity.

An excited grin then cracked on the administrator’s face while her body failed to budge. 

“Dammit, Gina!” Rosa growled. The detective’s hands, with the energy to aggressively grab the other woman’s body and toss her, suddenly slowed themselves slightly;  they took Gina by the waist while still keeping the same amount of urgency. Almost instantly after Rosa took a hold of her, Gina slid her hands to the back of Rosa’s neck, tangling her fingers into her nape hair. They moved together simultaneously, Gina tilted her head down, almost crashing noses in the rush, as her bottom lip slid into Rosa’s silently beckoning mouth. Rosa then shifted the shorter woman in closer, briefly nibbling her lip before repositioning so that she could slide her tongue inside Gina’s welcoming mouth. The administrator moaned which made Rosa respond in dragging her hands up Gina’s back in a desperate attempts to envelope the woman securely, as if Rosa wanted to trap her in that time and space forever.

Rosa had forgotten how much she missed kissing women. She had not been with a girl since her short fling with a fellow dancer at The American Ballet Academy. Their soft skin and long silky hair made the detective feel protective; whereas, with men, she had felt more like a huntress, going in for the kill.

However, Gina was different. She wasn’t just another beautiful delicate girl that she wished to simply care for. Gina was her friend, she was the one who truly saw through all of Rosa’s deceptions and emotionless bullshit façade, yet never judged her for it, nor tried to change her. Her other friends at the nine-nine seemed to have accepted Rosa for who she presents to be, where Gina had accepted her for who she really was.

Suddenly, as a sense of anxiety fell over Rosa at the fear of misinterpreting the other woman’s feelings and intent towards her; The detective grabbed Gina and yanked her back from her, separating their mouths. “Wait. What are we doing?” She implored for an answer.

Gina, a little stunned by the abrupt activity stoppage, fluttered her eyes open to look at her. “Well, I thought that I was getting my Katy Perry on.”

“That’s what I though! I will not be some experiment for you to mess around with!” She blureted out in pain.

“What, Rosa? No. It's not like that.”

“Then what’s your endgame here, Gina?”

Gina sighed, like she always had before she was about to get real. “I need somebody to skip Jake’s lame victory drinks with. Like, not all of them, just the really ridiculous ones. And I need someone to drag Amy with, that goody-two-boring-shoes detective, for all her pathetic life choices. And someone to help me figure out a way to exterminate Charles, and his stinky food, from Babylon. Aaaand, I need someone to go to Swan Lake with and explain to me how a whole lake could fit inside of a bird where it then proceeds to dance around with the swish-swash of all that water inside of it.”

Rosa responded dryly with a hint of a smirk, “That’s not what Swan Lake is about.”

“Oh,” The woman pondered for a moment, “Is it about a lake that’s shaped like a swan?”

Rosa shook her head in response, before asking, “So you’re endgame is for us to more-or-less do the exact same things that we always do?”

“Pretty much,” Gina nodded. “Just with the one addendum, of course,” she beamed while dragging a finger through the Latina’s beautiful thick hair, twirling a dark curl around her digit.

Rosa raked her eyes down the woman atop her, “How much time do we have before we have to leave?” Her gaze slowly made it’s way back to meet Gina’s hungry stare.

“Enough,” Gina giggled and pulled Rosa’s mouth back to hers, “That’s how much time we have,” she murmured between kisses.

The detective then threw her down to the side; laying her out on the couch as she topped her. “Good,” she smiled before, once again, kissing her very own, insane but still somewhat functional and attentive, girl.

**_The End_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and PSA dis bitch is a trollop for comments ;)


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